


Romp Reversal

by iblankedonmyname



Category: Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predator (Yautja) & Related Fandoms, Predator (Yautja) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Sex, Anal, Bathroom Sex, Body Horror, Body Swap, Bondage, Breeding, Brothels, Cloaca, Dubious Consent, Femdom, Foursome - F/F/F/M, Gangbang, Humiliation, Latex, Master/Pet, Other, Pegging, Prompt Fic, Rough Sex, S&M, Sex Toys, Sex Training, Whipping, Xenophilia, bug morphology, inflatables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25088665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iblankedonmyname/pseuds/iblankedonmyname
Summary: A yautja hunter gets more than he bargains for when a born hedonist takes the yautja’s body for a joy ride.
Relationships: Yautja (Predator)/Original Character(s), Yautja/Yautja (Predator)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 28
Collections: Yautja Prime Prompt Meme





	1. I got a gift but it got out!

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [AlphaLima1980](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaLima1980/pseuds/AlphaLima1980) in the [Yautja_Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Yautja_Prompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  There's a planet in Arcturus, where these creatures humans called Arcturian poongtang (see Aliens) live.  
> They have an hedonistic lifestyle so sex is in the menu, and more importantly, it doesn't matter if its male or female!  
> A predator travels there because the planet is kind of a brothel to them. Young yautjas want to train and old ones just want fun and fulfill their fantasies...
> 
> Imagine this as a fifty shades of yellow-green, with lots of human leather straps and xenomorph's tail whips. Just be creative
> 
> _Edited by the hero[iterations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iterations)_

Descending down to the lobby of the most infamous Arcturus brothel was like being swallowed whole by a giant sea-creature. The tunnel was ribbed with a slick bodily pink that glistened wetly in the periodic lamp nodes. Shadows stretched long between each pale rib-like enclave. They flickered and swelled as if alive. Even the floor felt like the rubbery bounce of a tongue attached to some primordial behemoth.

This wasn’t the first time Mak’heza had visited. He was somewhat of a regular patron even. The releases he had experienced in this establishment’s cave system were what brought him back time and time again. Whenever he bred yautja females, his forced subordination sickened him and while the actual sensation of breeding was empowering, he always hungered for control. Here in the caverns of Arcturus, he could have his fill of whatever he wished to conquer.

At the bottom of the cave, two slaves stood chained to the door, lit candles sat on their heads and the accumulated wax obscured their faces. They were possibly ooman, but Mak knew oomans breathe through their faces. Perhaps these creatures were something else. Their chains clanked as they acknowledged his presence and they dragged open the doors like draft animals.

The heavy doors widened on the entry chamber, red and dimly lit with a mix of unique aliens lounging on the soft floor swellings. They clustered around communal smoking towers that puffed with saccharine smells. Arcturians served them spindle-glassed teas from mirrored trays. Similar candle barring slaves and a fissure high in the ceiling were the only light sources.

The arcturians were jarring to look at. Mak remembered his first time here. Instead of eyes, they have a single semi-translucent node in their foreheads. One of the patrons he had spoken to previously stated the node was the start of the arcturians’ paralimbic lobe. Almost half of their brains were devoted to this sensory structure. The patron claimed this was why arcturians were so accurately aware of others’ pleasure.

Arcturians also had no noticeable gender binary. They all looked equally androgynous. Even their musks smelled the same. The servers speckled around the room were all tan and muscled. They had white hair of varying lengths but that was the only difference between individuals. Mak thought this would bother him, but after his first few experiences, he never noticed if he accidentally got a male. Males were supposedly uncommon anyway, and all arcturians had a single hole regardless of gender.

One of them approached him now wearing nothing but a translucent halter across their clavicles. They smiled at Mak’heza.

“Greetings honored patron, drink?” They offered a tray of options.

Mak declined, his dreads shifting as he shook his head.

The server lowered the tray. “Can I address your desires in another way?”

Mak stepped flush with the arcturian, so his muscled thigh pressed against their genitals. They had the same external nerve cluster no matter the gender. He growled low. His rumbling sound made the alien’s hair lift slightly. They flushed.

“Yes honored patron, please, follow me.” Another server wordlessly came to retrieve the drink tray before Mak’s selected arcturian led him into the caves.

* * *

Beni shivered in delight as the patron fucked into him. His ribbed cloaca throbbed around the intrusion. The organ could easily accommodate the fucking creature’s cock before hitting the divergent channels; urethra and anus. Still, the dick was filling. Each thrust sent electrifying shocks up Beni’s spinal cord into his swelling limbic epicenter, right behind his eye.

His patron dug six sets of claws into his flesh, and Beni shuddered into him. Pain and pleasure were indistinguishable once the lobe was engaged to feed on sensory input. The sunken den of pillows thrown about the fucking pair was rendered in pulsing rainbows. It was always like this while being penetrated. The world appeared gray and shimmery until a creature had their way with him. Then his vision ignited with rich hyper-dense waves of color.

His kind didn’t climax the way other creatures did. Once the lobe was activated, pleasure began and didn’t cease until the lobe was exhausted, which often came when the penetrating aliens’ stamina was depleted. This was about to happen. Beni could feel his lover’s faltering thrusts, could see his stuttering breath.

Hot pulses of fluid exploded into him suddenly. The claws detached from Beni’s bicep’s and thighs to steady their owner. He had eight limbs and walked on four. He was made of several segments including the one Beni guessed was his head. There were antennae and mandibles on that piece, but his voice came from somewhere else in his body. 

The octopede coiled around Beni in the cushioned pit. Beni’s lobe deactivated and his sight returned to monochrome. As the creature embraced him, his body hair was grazed, and the world erupted with flashes of color.

“Wonderful,” his patron thrummed deeply, “how is it your kind can impart such sensation?”

“Microfibers in our cloaca,” Beni said pleasantly, “our lobe picks up the pheromones a patron produces while in coitus and produces a reciprocal hormone.”

“Perfect.” A clawed appendage combed through Beni’s hair.

Beni beamed in the praise. He had only recited what he had been told. What the actual words meant, microfiber, pheromones, etc, was incomprehensible to him. He snuggled into the octopede’s embrace sending rainbow shocks through his vision. 

“I have a gift for you.” A segment along the alien’s body popped open, and another arm produced a small golden box. Beni had never received a gift before. He took the box with reverence, promising himself to remember this octopede if he returned in the future. None of his species were very good at remembering, but he could work at it.

“Can I open it?” Beni asked.

“Please,” the octopede’s thrum sounded momentarily thrilled.

Beni happily cracked the box’s seal. Inside on red velvet, squirmed two worms no longer than his finger. They appeared desperate to touch each other, but they were separated with a partition. He went in to pluck one out.

“Don’t touch it yet,” his patron tittered sharply. “They are geminae leeches.”

This meant nothing to Beni. His hand stayed poised to touch the leech.

The octopede tightened around him. “You charming imbecile, I will never tire of your kind’s innocence. I won’t spoil the surprise then. Place one leech on yourself. Place the other on someone you like. You will have quite an experience, I assure you.”

“You want me to use it on someone else? Huh?” Beni chirped. He would have to work hard to remember this patron. It was an engaging gift.

“Because,” the octopede began unspiraling from the pit, “it arouses me to think of you with another. But I must go now. Enjoy yourself, child of pleasure.” Within moments Beni’s patron had departed on his many limbs.

Beni climbed out, and a throng of brothel attendees filled the empty pit immediately. He clutched the box to his chest, discharged the patron’s ejaculate with a quick muscle flex, and trotted off to find the floor’s matron. She’d know what these things did.

Naturally, he got distracted along the way. He stopped to take a puff of the sweet Trana-voxmena, to brush against a crowd of fucking bodies, to suckle on a candied geode, but finally, he recalled the item he clutched. Conveniently, he was in front of the matron’s desk in one of the upper chambers.

“Yes, drone?” The matron was a female. Patrons never seemed to be able to tell, but every arcturian could. With the eye node, a male had spots and a female had stripes. Floor matrons specifically had small breasts. They had to eat the royal jelly periodically to be savvy managers. The hormones in the jelly changed their bodies slightly, unlike the changes that overcame those that gorged.

“I got this gift, matron. He called them germ-something bugs.”

The matron’s mouth twitched. She was curious. “Let me see.”

When Beni opened the box and showed her, she frowned.

“Drone, this is only one leech. Don’t tell me you lost the other?” she spoke patiently.

Beni looked back to where he came in, but then shrugged. “I guess.”

The matron tapped a stylus on her desk. “We’ll have to explain this to the affected client then. Remove the other leech and place it on your skin.”

Beni complied without question. He plucked the plump leech out of the box and put it on his forearm. The worm immediately buried its sucker mouth into his skin. A jolt of euphoria rocked through Beni as he watched the worm slip into his epidermis and disappear. He waited for something to happen.

The matron frowned deeper. “The second leech must not have implanted yet. We should retrace your steps.” She removed a metal collar from the wall and snapped it around Beni’s neck. She tugged on the leash so Beni followed the matron back out into the brothel’s cave network.

The search wasn’t going very well. Beni was easily distracted and relied on the matron snapping the leash to refocus him. He couldn’t recall where he stopped before speaking with the matron, but the leech seemed to guide him. It writhed in his skin when he faced certain directions. 

When Beni voiced this to the matron, she sighed. “Geminae leeches want to unite with their twin leech, drone. Follow the feeling.”

* * *

Mak’heza had buried his ze’pha into three arcturians in a row. He was on his fourth and had a rough grip on their throat. The arcturian arched their spine with pleasure and gurgled a moan. A small crowd of other patrons had gathered around him. Some were softly whispering about his technique; others, his assets. He was many times larger than the arcturians, and he was positive he filled their holes to bursting. The depraved creatures practically flocked to him.

Bruises bloomed on the alien beneath him, but rough handling excited them, made their hole wetter. When he pulled out, fluid trailed in translucent strands. He slammed back in and the arcturian wheezed. He pumped several more times eagerly reaching his fourth climax. Then his abs clenched, he hilted himself as deep as he could and filled the pulsing cavity with his seed. Fulfillment radiated through him warmly.

He barely noticed a wiggling sensation between his calf’s scales, but he slapped at the spot when he felt a sharp bite. This brothel couldn’t have bugs that would be far too exotic and unappealing for most guests. Oddly the bite began to throb slightly. 

Mak’s perfectly-fit body was beyond capable of dealing with a small bug bite, but the throb was still spreading when he pulled out of the arcturian and pushed through the surrounding crowd. There was something moving inside of him. He was having a harder time focusing. His body sank to his knees, and he couldn’t hear what the servant arcturians were asking him. Their fleshy faces had down-turned lips. The room receded from his vision into momentary darkness.


	2. Cetanu, what's happened to me!?

When Mak’s vision returned, nausea came riding with it. The bite had clearly delivered an intense poison into his blood or a mind-altering drug. The world was suddenly vivid with detail. Despite the lack of color, the shadows were blacker than black, the whites blinding, and all the shades in between seemed alive. Mak became acutely aware that he was hyperventilating. It was a drug then. 

His ship had a universal antitoxin in the med bay. If he could only get to it, quickly. He darted towards the room’s door but his throat was throttled as if caught on a wire. Sweat slicked fingers clutched at a metal collar latched around his neck. 

An arcturian was speaking to him. Her voice sounded garbled in his ears. Ears? Mak clapped his hands over his ears, stroked the delicate shell of the external organ. Rainbows rolled across his vision. He felt his single heartbeat. His body wasn’t getting enough oxygen, he collapsed to his knees to refocus. He had to focus.

The arcturian stroked his head. The touch shot euphoric bolts through his body. He caught the hand and twisted, dislocating her wrist bone. Mak revelled greedily in the momentary sense of control. He kneed her in the stomach, and her grip on his leash loosened. Within seconds he bolted free and disappeared into the crowd. If he could find a quiet place to recover, he could figure out how to get back to the surface and his ship.

But the tunnels looked different now, rendered in black and white. Groups communing nearby had a physical effect on him. Intoxicating smells dragged him this way and that without any logical explanation. It felt natural to follow his senses like this. When he crouched down in the shadows of a tunnel and tried to resist the urges to wander, he was transfixed by his five-fingered, talon-less hands. Either something awful had happened to him or he was trapped in a dream he couldn’t wake up from.

He had to get back to his ship. At least he’d be protected there until the drug wore off or he woke up. He clawed up the wall to stand on his strangely feeble legs, but the path to the exit was an obstacle course of distractions. The only way to get back would be to take each chamber one at a time. Slowly, incrementally, he’d return to the surface.

Mak peeled from the tunnel’s wall and entered into the nearest room. It was harrowing to pass on the surrounding delights. His discipline to the task at hand sent acute misery clawing up his spine. It felt similar to hunger pangs. As he carefully approached the next segment of tunnels, his hyper-rich vision swum. In one of the sunken pits was a yautja male with his markings. It was him! Or his body!? He snarled. A wiggling under his skin began to bounce and struggle towards the pit.

As he stomped ragefully closer to confront whatever possessed his body, two striped females looped their arms around his shoulders and dragged him away. They were strong. He snarled at them, his strange mouth drooling and snapping. His weak limbs couldn’t shake them off like a proper yautja’s.

“Calm yourself, drone. You’ve been randomly selected for breeding,” one of the females whispered into his ear. She sucked the lobe of it afterward. “Lucky you.”

The second female stroked his fleshy face, bolts of euphoria shot through him. The sensation slackened his clenched muscles and he was dragged further into the bowels of the brothel. 

Their path curved up. Mak was lulled by his kidnappers’ constant petting. Whenever they paused his rage would return faster and stronger than before, but as soon as they started again, he would sink into sensation. With his tiny alien lungs, he attempted to purr. When he was mentally alert, he would work to speak common with his unfamiliar mouth, but nothing sounded right.

After some distance, they deposited him in a golden open chamber. They took his collar off before departing. Immediately after his captors left him, the doors sealed shut without a single visible seam. The space was perfectly hexagonal from the soft floor to the far-off sky. In the center was a fountain flowing with golden syrup. 

Mak’s mouth immediately drained of moisture. The liquid was the most refreshing thing he’d ever seen. He swallowed and tried to resist the pull. It was a trick. It had to be. His mind was corrupted. 

He examined the height of the room. The walls were short enough for a yautja to jump to the upper edge and escape. Then all of this strangeness could be behind him. He launched up, and then scrambled down the slippery length of the wall. From his finger tracks, Mak realized his altered body was a poor jumper. The pool looked much more refreshing the second time he glanced back at it.

This reaction had to be chemical. In his mind, it was beginning to be imperative he drinks. He spent several more minutes trying to feel out the edge of the door he entered through, but as his blunted fingers sought a crack, he quickly forgot which wall the door was on. 

The pool waited, and each time he caught the fountain in the corner of his vision, his drive to escape weakened. The glistening fluid pumped over the fountain’s brim in sheets. At last, he convinced himself there was no harm in investigating the room’s only feature. He padded over and as he approached, the coolness of the fountain washed over him. 

At its edge, he dipped a tan hand into the fountain’s largest bowl. All counterarguments against drinking had left his mind. As soon as the syrup touched his lips, the fluid warmed his groin so abruptly his legs collapsed. He quickly recovered another handful, having dropped the first, and gulped it down in one greedy swig. The resounding moan that issued from his mouth was unfamiliar. Whatever the fluid was in the fountain, drinking it was akin to climaxing into a female’s tight pussy. Mak was thankful no one else was in the room. He went in for another handful. 

The fountain was spewing ambrosia. Each swallow shot straight to his sex in spiraling panchromatic arcs. He was feverish with delight. After only the first few gulps, he had plunged his entire head into the basin to drink. 

When minutes later he gasped back to the surface for breath, his hair viscously dripping, an arcturian female was observing him on the other side of the fountain. Unlike the aliens downstairs, she was without a doubt female. She wore a translucent second skin that compressed her breasts and thighs. Her wings flickered. He glanced up at the open sky. She must have flown in.

Abruptly his face was forced back into the fountain. A hand fisted in his hair held him under. He was choking on the syrup when he was finally wrenched out and thrown back on the ground. Correction, there were three arcturian females in the chamber with him. Each one was slightly different.

The one that had held him under spoke first, “Welcome drone. We are the Queen’s attendants. We will prepare you for your audience with her. How do you like the royal jelly?” She dipped a finger in the highest basin and sucked the liquid off. 

“It will be thirty-six hours of drinking,” Spoke the one to her right, who had a side-bun.

“And the right encouragement before you are ready,” said the one he saw initially.

“You may call me Fi. That is Fa.” She pointed to the female with the bun. “And this, FeFe.” The last walked around the fountain to join them. “But you’re name, drone, is irrelevant. Won’t you drink some more?”

Mak shook his head sharply. While he desperately thirsted for more of the syrup, passing through the females to get more triggered every gut instinct that still existed in his stupid, feeble mind. 

“No need to be shy!” Fi giggled. Fa and FeFe immediately pounced on the prone male and dragged him back to the fountain. “You’re probably already feeling its effects. Please drink.” 

They threw him in.

Mak didn’t sign up for this. These females were exactly like his own species. He was sick of being overpowered. He snarled at them while drenched.

“Oh!” Fa giggled into her hand, “This one has a bit of fight. Exciting.” She waded into the fountain and kneeled next to him. He scowled at her while she stroked his cheek. Sensation bloomed over his skin, he raged against his treacherous body. “We can be nice though. Here.” 

She scooped up her own handful and offered it to him. He snapped his face away like a child. She tugged into his hair and filled his protesting mouth in a second. He sputtered. While she waded back she was laughing. “Now drink or we will make you.”

While Mak was hyper suspicious of the women and the fluid, his tingling groin pulsed madly for more. He skirted around the edge of the fountain until he was out of view, crouched down, and continued to drink. Eventually, he became engorged on the stuff, exhausted and deliriously oversensitized in his nether regions. He dozed in the shadow of the fountain’s tiers. 

He squeaked as he awoke being dragged to the pool’s edge. Fi and Fa pinned his arms back. FeFe pinched his full belly. He jerked. FeFe’s exploring hands slid down the plane of his abdomen and parted his legs. He wiggled. Paya, he was too sensitive for this. However the arcturian brain worked while administering pleasure, it was doing an excellent job melting every shred of dignity Mak had, which was considerable.

FeFe palpated his loins. Oddly throughout this transformation, Mak hadn’t fully checked himself out. Moments before this inspection, it hadn’t mattered to Mak that the syrup didn’t create an erection. Now, under this scrutiny, Mak missed the testament to his manhood. Still, he groaned under her treatment.

“The residual penal gland has been stimulated,” FeFe shared clinically with her companions. “It’s moving along predictably. You’ll need to drink more.”

Mak couldn’t drink anymore. He wanted more, but his stomach hurt. His inner thighs were quaking. He tugged at the females pinning him.

“Hmm, full? We can work that off.” The rubbery surface of FeFe’s outfit flexed. Mak had seen this material before, but couldn’t remember where. It was like his arcturian brain couldn’t accommodate his entire mind. He growled, but the threat was sharply cut through with a gasp. FeFe’s suit had grown a protrusion and she was rubbing it into a hole he didn’t have before. He was drowning in his mind’s expression of pleasure. Rainbows swirled before him and filled his vision.

When the suit finally filled the empty place between his legs Mak was pretty sure he was going to die. That Cetanu, the black hunter, was going to come down from paradise and tear him into pieces, possibly piss on him. Before finally boiling his corpse down to powdered bone. Mak could be scattered on the wind and forgotten. Because his arcturian brain was flooding his body with impossible rolling sexual agony, and he still had hours to go.


	3. Whoa, hello new body!

For one second, Beni thought he had fallen asleep following the tug of the weird bug under his skin. It was a possibility. He liked to nap and sometimes in the middle of doing something was a perfect time. However, the moment his vision dimmed was almost the moment it returned, but now it was all screwy. 

For one, it made the world appear to have flat stagnant colors, and for...two… he had a dull headache. In the spot where he once had a miraculous sensory structure was a large expanse of empty space he had no clue what to do with. It didn’t seem like a fair trade. All his feelings missing, for what exactly? For…three…? He was in a completely different part of the brothel than the moment he went to sleep. He rubbed his neck for a moment, maybe his cool brain was traded for the ability to spontaneously transport from one location to another. He didn’t know how that worked, but that did seem like a good trade. He tried to transport again.

But...nothing. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the exact same spot he was moments before. He blinked. That was a new experience. He blinked again! Wow. It was incredible. He went to touch his blinking _bits_ , but his fingers bounced off a hard shell covering his face. At first, he was scared that he had grown an exoskeleton and that he would never know touch again. He panicked a little, but the latch was easy enough to find.

The mask hissed as he pulled it off. He kept blinking! For his entire life, he’d seen aliens blink and now he could do it because he had the jelly sacks in his face known as eyeballs. He had to touch one. 

He yelped. Ow. Ow. He winced. That hurt! Perhaps he wasn’t supposed to touch eyeballs with, he looked at his fingers, big sharp talons. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to use the eyeball again. He giggled and a new clicking sound emanated from his face. 

Beni’s clicking startled himself. He jerked up to standing and began to pluck at the sharp mandibles jutting out of his mouth. They plucked back. Wow.

With one eyeball he examined his hands. They were green and scaly, but as sensitive as Beni’s original hands. He slid them over his washboard abs. Beni wasn’t half bad before but this was ridiculous.

At this point, he realized an arcturian was hanging over him. Female?...Male? Beni couldn’t see their markings with his new eyes, well, eye. Either way, they looked concerned.

“Honored patron, are you alright? Should I get a medic?”

He stared at them for too long, but then when he spoke every word came out wrong. His new mouth kept clicking where his previous lips shaped actual syllables.

The arcturian lost interest and trotted off. Beni understood that well. His confusion wasn’t very engaging, but refreshingly, for the first time in his brief life, Beni could focus. He tried a few basic words with his mouth bits. Wow, trying was hard. While he enjoyed being able to focus, it wasn’t very rewarding. He put his mask back on.

Jeez, he really had a great set of abs. Actually now that he was moving around a little, he had a great set of _everything_. He felt super dense, not dumb dense, but like his body had an unnatural mass. Jogging and bouncing around was fun. Wait, did that arcturian call him a patron? Wait! Did he remember that?! Whoa!

On second thought, they were hot. Maybe Beni should get them to touch his weird, scaly, dense body. They seemed into him. They certainly smelled into him. He bet he could convince them he was interesting again. He scanned the chamber. When he couldn’t find them he shrugged, there were other hot arcturians around. He sidled over to one with short hair wearing an iridescent garter belt.

“Hi.” 

Oh, his mask talked for him. Nice! 

“Hello honored patron!” the arcturian chirped happily, “Can I help you?”

He thought through his mask, found some words. This was very intuitive.

“Yes,” a different voice said. Beni giggled exuberantly. “Touch me?” This last phrase was made of two different voices. Fun!

The arcturian smiled. “Certainly!” They slid their hand into Beni’s big palm and led him down into one of the lounging pits. Beni had never been on the receiving end of this. It was very comforting. He felt a bubbling of pride in his work. 

In the pit, the arcturian dragged their slim fingers down his biceps and up his thighs. At this point, Beni missed his old body. The touch barely made him feel anything. Nothing changed with his vision. He was used to lightning bolts and what he got was a weak static shock. It was as if his scales were too thick for this kind of thing. He wondered what was even the point of scales.

Still, they smelled really good. In fact, he was smelling really good too. This was new. When he was old Beni, scent was important for food and smoking but not a huge factor in being turned on. Their touch wasn’t doing anything for him, but he could smell them forever. The mask was making it hard to inhale that sweet, sweet odor. He hated having to pick between having the mask off and losing the ability to talk or nuzzling into her soft and smelly skin with his mouth jabby-things.

The arcturian giggled, and finally, Beni was beginning to feel something. It began with a languid warmth that spread over his lower abdomen and peaked sort of around where he once had his cloaca. He was pretty sure this body didn’t have a cloaca, which was a bummer because cloacas rock. There seemed to be a muscle there instead. It was possibly clenching? Peeling? Expanding? Oddly, whatever it was felt hot and wet. These two sensations were only growing. 

It reminded him of something he’d experienced before, but Beni was stumped how. He was unable to put two and two together until the crafty arcturian slipped their hand under his metal loincloth and curled their fingers around a hypersensitive growth that suddenly existed on Beni’s new body! He made a very interesting sound that didn’t come from his mask but probably wasn’t made by mandibles and sharp teeth either. It was guttural. 

Beni had a fucking dick! He was not a drone any longer but a male because he had the hormones to make a dick! And not just any dick, but a giant one. Beni was ecstatic! He felt that if all the candle slaves left at that moment, he could light the room with his internal beaming alone. Too bad his new face was so bad at smiling. If he had any clue where the hive’s queen was, he would run up to her and bury his new dick in her until she made a billion weird scaly babies. 

But he wasn’t going to do that, because his new arcturian friend was trapping his hips between their thighs, and Beni absolutely knew what came next, just never from this angle before. His cock was very slippery, but as they lowered their cloaca down over it, for the first time Beni felt the lightning bolts he missed from his old body. He was squeezing into a very tight, warm hole. It made him feel like the custard crammed into his favorite pastry, only there was nowhere for his ‘extra custard’ to go. Cloacas rock. 

A new wave of pleasure crashed over him. He rolled the arcturian over like he was momentarily possessed by a big aggressive male (exciting!), and pushed his entire girth into them. There was a lot of friction happening, but immediately he and the arcturian created some more lubrication. They both sighed in relief, and Beni could really get into the experience.

Having a legitimate, fully-functioning cock was a lot like having his old brain back, minus the rainbows, which he missed. It was like aliens with a penis had a brain in their dick that was hypersensitive only sometimes like his brain was hypersensitive full-time. All in all, it was great, but it did end really fast. He got super caught up in doing the penetrating for once, and then it was over. He rolled over into the soft pillows of the pit but kept a firm hand on his pleaser’s narrow waist.

“Pet my head?” The mask was very convenient.

The arcturian started stroking his head, which he now realized was full of long sensitive tubes. Their petting reverberated into his toes. The dreads were so sharply sensitive, it set Beni’s teeth on edge, but interestingly enough, the stroking made him vibrate in his torso.

“Oh!” exclaimed the arcturian, “that’s nice!”

It was very nice for Beni too. while the petting was jarring, he liked making these rhythmic grumbly sounds. 

“Are you a worker?” Beni’s mask collaged together.

“Yes,” chirped the female. She was still stroking his hair-things. He wanted her to be rougher.

“Do you think,” Beni strung the sentence along. He was a little nervous to ask, “more workers want to be with me?”

“Oh definitely, honored patron. How many would you like?”


	4. Paya, end me faster!

Time was passing, Mak’heza was aware of it, but he was without barring on whether time was moving faster or slower. His unfamiliar legs had been parted and tied on a spreader that had risen from the floor. The structure was golden chrome like the rest of the room. He had the distinct awareness that he was panting and the entire world had been painted over in rainbow brushstrokes. The edges of his vision sparkled.

When Mak was pleasured to the state of forgetfulness, his heart slowed, but the few times he came back to his old awareness, an obscene rage scorched him. His pulse rose substantially and he struggled against the shining brackets that held him. However, the women would then chastise him, prod him, feed him, or fuck him, and he’d laze back into a tingly stupor.

They took turns with him. The smart material that clothed them could bubble to an extreme size if they wanted. It was soft and responsive like the texture of skin. However, it didn’t produce lubrication so the arcturians covered themselves in the goo from the fountain. Fi, Fa, and FeFe left puddles as they lounged about the hexagonal prison or when they approached him braced in the apparatus. The globs on the floor glistened.

FeFe was dripping in the jelly as she swelled inside of him. He swore he didn’t have this hole before, but his memory wasn’t very good, and it was beginning to feel like his life as a completely different species was a dream that was slipping away from him. She pulled out of him wetly. He felt the viscous strands pull at the sensitive skin around his new hole. His voice cracked needily. When she plunged back into him, he grunted. His vision swum with dancing color. The colors hadn’t stopped since they began pleasuring him like this. Mak wasn’t even sure what they wanted.

Yes the queen, he had to remember the queen. Every so often, they would check on his ‘progress’. This involved some deep tissue groping in his groin. Lately, he felt significant movement in the spot. The sensation was very familiar, like the parting of his old genital fold, the lubrication for a growing hardon. Ha! His rage returned. This wasn’t his body at all. He was trapped in some pitiful arcturian whore by these diabolical women, and when he returned to his true form he’ll rip them into a thousand pieces. He won’t even keep their skulls. He’ll lay their bits onto a fire until the fat blisters and dissolves then he’ll feed them to his hunting dogs, piece by piece. Honor be damned, yes these women were a fair hunt but they deserved a less than noble death for the torture they’d put him through.

FeFe laughed at his glowering hiss and drove into him rougher. Her latex suit expanded, trying to rearrange his insides. He moaned dimly. His head fell back against the bracing. What was he thinking about? He was certainly thinking about something.

Fa wandered over, her entire body dripping. She licked the length of her forearm for a particularly hefty drop and sucked her lips to get them clean. “Have you checked him lately?”

“This isn’t my first time, Fa,” FeFe grumbled. “He’s progressing, but we’ll have to change direction shortly. He needs to begin stamina training. What’s the time?”

Fi draped herself over Mak’s trapped shoulders, traced a sticky finger up his sternum, and parted his lips. He distantly hated that he sucked it clean. Her wings buzzed as she smiled at him. She stroked his face.

“We’re at the halfway mark,” Fi leaned over him, and Mak had a cradled sensation as his head rested between her breasts. “I like this one. He’s kind of cute. Look at his lovely hair.” She plucked at the white tufts that messily circled his head.

“Don’t get attached, Fi. Let me remind you that you like them all. You are  _ easy, _ ” Fa huffed loftily before the sight node in her forehead twinkled evilly at Fi. “Why don’t you stab him a little? We can start on the second stage a bit early. It won’t hurt.”

Fi giggled, and a bug-like limb lifted from over the rise of her breast. It dripped with a clear fluid. Mak jerked in Fi’s encircled arms. He had noticed the strange protrusions below their collar bones. He was positive he noticed them. But he didn’t think they were functional, or so sharp-looking up close. They were like his mandibles! He growled at her right before the sharp, small structure stabbed into his pectoral. He yelped, but mostly from the shock of being pierced. There was no pain, only the constant, delirious swelling of pleasure. He sighed again and fell back against Fi.

The wound pulsed like a bug-bite. He imagined there was venom in the stinger. A cool liquid sensation was throbbing into his skin and through his veins.

“Aw, girls, there it is!” FeFe crooned happily. The other women peeked over Mak like he was irrelevant. “You should be proud, drone, that’s one of the best ones I’ve seen.”

“FeFe! He’s a male now! Show some respect.” Fi clutched his throat with her encircling arms. 

Mak struggled to glance around Fa to see what they were talking about. When she leaned back, he jerked with shock. His dick was back but freshly born in appearance. FeFe grazed it with her nails and shivers shot up his spine. 

“Ready for phase two, male?” FeFe asked.

Mak didn’t exactly know what phase two was, and he had the sense to not look forward to it. Regardless, he was pleased a valued part of his anatomy had returned. “Nuh.” He voiced bleakly.

“He speaks!” Fa mouthed surprise but then chuckled darkly. “I hope he doesn’t start babbling idiotically like all the others.” She skipped away for a pitcher she left by the fountain. Once the pitcher was filled she returned. “Open wide, new male.”

He clamped his mouth shut as best he could. The fluid was very quenching, but he hated listening to the females. Fi squeezed his jaw until it popped open for Fa to pour the goo straight down his throat. He choked on the honey-thick goo and coughed hoarsely when he had swallowed it all.

The braces uncurled from his wrists, hands, and neck, and the apparatus that held him sunk into the floor. Without its support, he was momentarily without mooring, lying spread-eagle on the floor. The women circled him and he resisted the urge to scuttle away from them like a fearful crab.

“Phase two, male, is we make you build some endurance.” FeFe unzipped her skin-tight suit and stepped out of it. The elastic material peeled away from her dewy skin to weave into a long cord with a knotted handle. Her curvaceous body was shimmering with moisture in the light-filled room. She cracked the whip against the ground.

Mak had been beaten before. He was far from intimidated. Instead, he flashed his teeth aggressively. FeFe snarled back before cackling. “I’m glad you are spunky, male. It stokes my professional pride. Hold him.”

Fa and Fi grabbed his forearms. Mak hated how weak his body was, he couldn’t even throw these women off him. They were particularly strong and smart. Smarter than the arcturians down in the brothel. He was beginning to realize his intelligence was returning a little bit at a time as well. 

The first whip crack was shocking. It struck him across the ribs and left a long red welt. Mak gasped for air, but it wasn’t painful. Instead in his rainbow-sight state, the crack of the whip was instead like the women’s thrusting into his new hole. While he was a yautja, and pain was second nature, it never was this unbelievably good. He stopped struggling to welcome another strike to his thighs.

FeFe ran the whip through her closed fists. “If you like it too much, it’s no fun. I want one hundred push-ups.” She rattled her cage-like wings for emphasis.

Fi and Fa dropped him, but he caught himself before toppling onto the floor. This body’s weak arms were insulting. Despite keeping him from bashing his head into the floor, they almost buckled. Mak’heza pressed himself back up in one pushup, and his biceps shuddered. He counted twenty reps before his arms collapsed and his chin collided with the ground pleasurably.

FeFe almost kneeled on his face, she was so close to his prone body. She leaned down to his level. “One hundred. Every time you fail. We feed you and stab you. Fa!”

Fa collected his exhausted limbs behind his back, lifting him off the ground, and up against her chest. Fi went to the fountain. While held, Fa’s strange extra limbs unfolded from her breast bone and stabbed into him. The throbbing returned. Mak remembered suddenly the strange bug bite that started this all. There was venom in that bite too, and distantly, he could still feel the wiggle under his skin. It was barely noticeable with the attention he was receiving now.

The wiggle was reminiscent of his cock swelling. The buried prongs were delivering something into his bloodstream and it was more arousing than the fountain’s fluid at this point. The muscles in his body rippled and throbbed together with the pumping of the neurotoxin. Fi fed him another pitcher of drink which he nauseously accepted.

FeFe cracked the whip on the ground. “Enough! There is a task, and you will meet it, male.” The prongs loosened from Mak and he was thrown back to the ground. His regiment began again. This time he got past forty before his limbs folded under him.


	5. What's a big guy gotta do?

The pit had been swarming for the last several hours, and Beni was writhing against female-worker arcturians so intimately it felt like the boundaries of his body didn’t exist or at least, ended at the edges of their padded grotto. This alien he inhabited had great stamina, which meant he could activate a worker’s paralimbic node and the node wouldn’t deactivate for some time, so even while taking a break from the constant thrusting he could watch three or four tan and scantily-dressed arcturians continue without him.

He liked doing this as old Beni too, watching others go at it. Eyes were okay. The constant full-color was nice. He wondered if he was missing out having two eyes because he ruined the second one pretty quickly. Smelling sex was the best sensory trade though. He could choose if he wanted to secrete his own musk too, which was really interesting. Beni couldn’t see why an alien race would opt _ not _ to smell randy every second of every day. The scent really excited his female companions too. He felt powerful.

The arcturians on top of him had white braids of different styles but were wearing similar belted collars. While two humped his thigh, the third’s legs were spread wide so they could finger her. She was making some very squeaky noises. Beni hoped the fifth arcturian, who was pumping his shaft into an erection again and the sixth, who was really tearing at his dreads, would let him delve into the one open-legged in the center of the pit. It was a huge bummer that his dick could only accommodate one female at a time, but he supposed that was simply how most dicks worked. 

However, that wasn’t a problem cloacas had. On more than one memorable occasion, and he really enjoyed being able to remember, he had taken two cocks at once and it had been incredible. He scratched one more mental tic on the side of pro cloacas against penises. But while he was distracted the fifth and sixth arcturians had gotten into a disagreement about who could mount him next, and were now physically fighting. Beni was torn between being more aroused and being a bit fed up with them all. The second emotion was new. Beni had never been ‘fed up’ before.

For the sake of getting the full alien experience, he decided to try out being annoyed. Beni abruptly stood up, throwing the six arcturians off his thighs and chest. They tumbled into the pit and collectively whined at the loss of his massive presence. He chittered happily. Being annoyed was a perk. He had rarely felt so desired than to watch the reaction of these women after denying them his sexual essence. Perhaps he’ll find a partner and come back later to see if sharing a cloaca with another dick was as nice as taking two. He shifted his armor and loincloth back in place before climbing back up to the surrounding floor. 

A little exploring couldn’t hurt. He wanted to revisit his favorite things to see if they tasted or smelled any different. If he was lucky maybe they’d turn him on as they did in his old body. He went to another chamber.

He lounged on the soft pillows under a Trana-voxmena tower, but was unable to smoke it first because of his mask and then because he couldn’t figure out how to suck with his sharp-toothed lipless mouth. There was some benefit to his mouth mandibles when it came to eating things. He actually preferred letting his mandibles hold the snacks he munched on than use his hands. Although soup was a strange challenge he hadn’t expected. Perhaps the alien only used straws, but how they were able to suck without lips, he wasn’t sure. Thankfully, he had an impressive tongue which helped. 

His wanderings took him down to the black pool. In its obsidian reflection, he caught the first real glimpse of his new body. Tall and wide, he had transformed from a tan, svelte, white-haired pixie boy into an absolute ox of a reptile. His dark green skin appeared monochrome in the pool. The thick strands sprouting from his head were black and beaded with metal. When he took off his mask and lowered down to get a closer look, his new face was intensely sharp. He had gouged one eye very badly, but the other was so dark he couldn’t make out the pupil. His crest flared with a symmetrical pattern. 

He pressed gently on the scales around his broken eye. Maybe he should go find a medic. In reflection, it had been hurting for hours, but his new body was really good at ignoring pain. There was a cracking sound that pulled him from his reflection. Across the pool, a group of masochists was prostrate on the ground, and above them, cracking a long bullwhip was the same species that Beni was. If it was possible, this other version of Beni was larger, perhaps older. He had quills spread up his chest that were graying at the tips. Even his dreads were two-toned. 

The second alien’s fist curled around the whip’s pummel and snapped it across the spines of the creatures at his feet. The crowd was made up of both arcturians and other patrons. Beni believed that this other was probably so good at creating pain that if a creature enjoyed it, naturally they would want to submit to this delectably, powerful male. It certainly made Beni interested in seeing what pain was like in his new body. If his messed-up eye was an indication, he likely needed a lot of negative stimulation to feel anything.

As Beni made his way around the pool, he saw that the subs were being beaten so intensely they had bloody slashes across their skin. A shiver crawled up Beni’s body. He was hopeful he would like it when he kneeled down.

The cracking whip stopped abruptly, and the whip holder growled roughly. Beni peeked up at him to see his large, taloned foot standing immediately in front of his face.

“What do you think you’re doing, hunter?” The larger version of Beni hissed, “Yautja kneel to no one. It’s repulsive.”

Beni jerked up to look at his imposing stature. The rest of the crowd was observing him with numerous expressions ranging from annoyance to confusion. Beni had never been denied pleasure before. He didn’t like that feeling one bit. 

“Oh...hmm. Sorry? But could you just hit me a little? If it’s not too much trouble? It’s an experiment.” He offered hopefully.

The other yautja growled again. “What’s wrong with you? Have you been here so long your brain has liquified with pleasantries? Get up.” He yanked Beni up out of his prone position by the biceps and pushed him in the direction of the door. “Leave.”

Beni hovered instead. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted the larger yautja to whip him. Why wasn’t that possible? How had he repulsed someone? He was a desired creature with an attractive body that smelled good, and yet, he was denied this very basic experience. 

“Leave!” Roared the yautja.

And Beni, conflicted and confused, rushed to the chamber’s exit.

As he ascended to an adjoining chamber, he felt miserable. He had heard of embarrassment before but had never wanted to experience it. The emotion was rotten. Beni had a strange inclination to go back down to the dark pool, walk right up to the larger male, and demand a longer explanation. Perhaps he’d even growl back, puff up to look bigger, hiss like the aggressive male he now inhabited. But he didn’t want to make his embarrassment worse either.

In the higher chamber, Beni sunk sadly into a pillowed lounge and wallowed in his misery. He missed his old body. Surely the big yautja would have whipped him as a cute arcturian. Being a drone or a worker never mattered to other species. Why did other aliens have such hangups? Why couldn’t they open their minds and live free like his own race? He wanted to talk to someone about all these new ideas he had never considered before, but he realized it might be hard to find a good listener. He couldn’t stand listening. 

Serendipitously, at that moment, he spotted a familiar matron across the chamber’s floor. She had a new honey-combed cast on her wrist, but without a doubt, it was the worker he had spoken to at the start of all this. Maybe she could help him. He uncurled from his fetal position and bounced over.

“Hey, matron!” Beni wanted to sound as positive as possible. He didn’t want to start laying on the heavy ideas. Arcturians liked happier things more than sad things.

“Yes patron?” she bowed lightly, “can I help you with something?” Beni appreciated her petite feminine shape and bluntly-chopped haircut for the first time.

“Oh. I’m the drone. Remember? With the weird worms in a box.” He jabbed his own chest with a talon.

“You!” her demeanor switched in a blink, “no wonder my wrist is broken in three places right now!” The matron gestured to the hardened cast holding her bones together.

“Was it good?” Beni asked cheerily. 

“Well, yes it was incredibly hot, but that’s beside the point, drone! You’re in a yautja!? Do you know how incredibly dangerous that is!? We need to find your arcturian body! Who knows what’s happening to our honored patron right now. He’ll be very unhappy! Now, which direction is he in.”

Beni tugged his own dreads to settle himself. “I dunno.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Follow the pull of the leech!” The matron whispered sharply. Even in a state of anger and panic, she was aware of not alarming the guests.

“But I can’t feel anything from the leech. Maybe they have a range?”

The matron tapped her barefoot on the soft carpeting. She sucked her lip. Due to the hormones from the jelly, her body was pleasantly voluptuous. Beni found her more arousing than the other arcturian workers he had fraternized with less than an hour ago.

“Maybe. They are a rare commodity, but we need to look. I can put out a general call to locate your body.”

“Do we have to?” Beni reached out to begin stroking her bare skin before moving on to the tight rubber sheath she wore over her breasts.

“Yes, drone,” her voice wasn’t as convinced or sharp as moments before.

“I can think of something else we can be doing,” Beni clicked behind his mask’s voice for emphasis. “I have a pretty great dick, and I’d like to show it to you.”

“Well,” the matron traced the outline of his muscles with her eyes. She chewed her lip. “I suppose, it couldn’t hurt to delay a few minutes with putting out the general notice.”

Beni knew from experience that a yautja phallus lasted longer than a few minutes, but he’d let her believe it would be done quickly. He guided her back to his cushioned lounge, and when they had sunk in together he took her small hands in his large ones. “Hey, pet my head. Trust me. You’ll like it too.”


	6. No amount of preparation could be enough!

Sweat beaded on his strange skin. Mak’heza’s mental capabilities had returned as his body’s muscles grew thicker, stronger. Whereas the fountain’s hormonal slop had grown him a dick, the attendants’ spearing, venomous stingers had altered his body chemistry further to be a more familiar version of male. Mak realized he had missed having muscles. He had bulk again, albeit he was smaller in stature than before but when he cranked out another round of pushups and the curve on his alien hips flexed sharply, he was decidedly more male than at the start of this experience.

The women were less terrifying as well. He was looking at them hungrily, and unless the hormones had taken over his mind completely, they were looking similarly back. FeFe’s eyes lingered on the cut rise on his lower back as he lowered into a squat. Fa chewed her lip anytime he jogged the chamber’s perimeter. Fi blushed whenever he made eye contact while doing anything. Perhaps the sludge had made him grow taller. He seemed to loom over them now.

They looked very shapely in their tight, flexing shifts. He could easily peel the garments off or convince the attendants to convert the material into something else. FeFe still struck him periodically with her whip. He couldn’t help but focus on her the most. Her nude body practically glittered in the sunlight like she was made of gold. She irritated him with her teasing. The sharp cracks of her whip were enticing. It made him remember the many matings he had experienced with female yautja, but this pain was better.

With his odd mind, the lashings he was given made everything explode in rich colors. His sight was vivid. Mak wondered what it would be like to hunt when pain meant nothing; when shadows had stunning clarity; when hormones were visible like smoke on the wind. It would be a completely different experience. Too bad he was still too soft. His body was very receptive, which would be problematic in the field. He circled the chamber again at a sprint. The planet’s sun-baked the room like an oven. He loved the heat, especially when he caught eyes with Fa, who bit her lower lip and rattled her wings. He imagined his skin was as golden as theirs in the light. 

“Oh, male,” FeFe called to him while coiling her whip, “Inspection.”

He smirked with his lips when he’d normally flex his mandibles. Mak slowed down as he approached the female. She was certainly the hardest to impress and was therefore the most worthwhile. He was subtly aware that if he seduced her the others would bend immediately. FeFe draped the whip around the back of his neck to draw him close. He was indeed taller now. The power they imbued him with coursed through his altered body. 

FeFe dragged a hand down his chiseled chest over his oblique and asis down to his groin. She let it linger in places she hadn’t before. Her professionalism was fracturing when faced with his muscled physique. Mak noticed that she had begun to take her time fondling him now, and this time his limp length was responding as it should. He propped his arm against the wall, trapping her between his body and the chamber.

“You’re coming along well,” FeFe spoke with a drawl but it took a moment for her face to lift from her stroking hand to his. “Phase three?”

“What’s phase three?” Mak said indifferently. He bent his mouth into the curve of her shoulder. She was all colors now, rich like a woven tapestry made of every modicum of animal chemical.

“That’s up to you,” FeFe whispered and tilted his chin back to her face with the sharp point of her fifth limb. 

Mak pressed his lips to her mouth. He forced her luscious backside against the wall while her legs parted to accommodate him. With that simple movement, he got the first sensation of his new erection grinding against her slick hole. His hyper-sensitive mind surged with fresh need. He grabbed her thighs firmly and lifted her apart to enter her. A frenzy filled him. He had come to this brothel to rut and had barely scratched that itch due to this absurd ordeal. She was obscenely tight around his new, turgid growth. He helplessly dove into her in frantic thrusts.

Fi and Fa weren’t willing to be forgotten as he fucked into their leader. Their roaming hands quickly spread over his back to his anterior muscles and pectorals. He felt their whines through the cheeks they pressed to his neck. He’d get to them shortly. FeFe wrapped her legs around his hips and was aiding his delving with short return thrusts of her own. She moaned against his lips, sending vibrations into his core. Her channel contracted around him, which only made him falter his rhythm to cope with the waves of rapture.

Mak groaned into her, sunk his foreign teeth into the fat of her lip. So much for stamina training, it depleted quickly as he spilled into her. His mind spiraled to pleasured heights he hadn’t experienced before. For a moment, he considered whether he was seeing the fourth dimension. 

Once he mentally fell back into his body, he realized he was now the one pressed into the wall. Fi’s and Fa’s hands crawled over his quadriceps. Fi’s stinger cut into him, sending a wave of euphoria back into his spent nerves.

FeFe stroked his chest while her underlings pumped him with venom. “Adequate performance, male, but you’ll need to tire us all before you’re ready for the queen.”

His cock grew erect again, likely from the venom, but he hoped from his own masculine magnitude. Fi parted her lips around him and sank, consuming his girth to the base. Mak’s mouth dropped open to swallow a hollow gulp of air. His fingers flailed for purchase on the smooth wall but found none. He distantly remembered that his old body had a bigger cock that made it very hard for aliens to blow him to his hilt. This felt impossibly good. When Fi’s lips completed a full suck and slipped off, Fa took her place lavishing her mouth down his length. He wheezed. 

They dragged him down to the ground like a pack of starving wolves that finally captured their prey. Fi pushed Fa off and mounted him. Her body clenched as she pulsed in angled bursts. Mak gripped her rounded ass and drove into her harder. 

The queen’s attendants weren’t easy to exhaust. Phase three stretched for longer and longer. Mak slipped into a rote, delirious state of fucking continuously without end. If his lap was available, it would quickly be filled. Arousal barely mattered. The venom would coax an erection even in his most spent, mindless state.

.

.

.

Mak’s hand moved against silk sheets. The first few strokes he thought he had shrunk and was caressing the skin of a now gigantic attendant. Perhaps he was inhabiting the crease between her breasts. He might have fallen back asleep with that thought. Still, he awoke sliding over cool silk, and the second time he considered the implications, he realized he was on a bed. It was a shimmery, flaxen color and however he stretched over its hexagonal shape, his limbs couldn't reach the edges. Fi and Fa were draped over his chest, snoozing quietly. It must’ve risen from the floor sometime during their long, mating session.

He sunk back into the cushions dimly. The arcturians cuddled against him as he shifted. Mak moved his hand from the sheets to their rounded shoulders. He tried to remember a time he felt more content. In his comfortable, thoughtless state, he dozed off again, drifting between weightlessness and feeling incredibly heavy.

He awoke to hands rubbing his temples.

“Phase 3 is complete, male,” FeFe’s voice sunk into his consciousness like a submersible in the deep ocean.

“Mmmm?” Mak murmured pleasantly.

“Sleep well?” she continued while petting him.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Get up.” FeFe’s ministering hands receded. He missed them immediately and sat up. Fi and Fa rolled off his body with a grieved whimper, but they curled up with each other without a second complaint once he slid off the bed.

“Are you ready?” FeFe was waiting for him in the recently opened doorway. Mak couldn’t be sure if it was the same one he entered. He assumed it wasn’t. Outside the bright chamber, the cavern was a black abyss.

The question was too open-ended. He was likely physically ready. The women had transformed him. He was not the same weakling that entered the chamber an unbelievably long time ago, so he didn’t doubt the attendants’ purpose. But Mak couldn’t imagine what they were preparing him for. The trial, until recently, had been grueling, as a yautja that amount of effort was normally reserved for chivas or the most intense of hunts.

FeFe regarded him in his long delay and smiled warmly. “You’re ready. It will be frightening at first, but you will enjoy yourself. All males do. Now leave. There is no other exit.”

Mak smirked. How very yautja. He entered the blackness beyond the door with purpose. 

FeFe called out to him. “Once she is sated, you will be retrieved.”

The door slid shut behind him and he was swallowed in darkness.

The tunnel was long and smelled faintly sweet. At the far end, he saw a pinprick of light expand slowly as he approached. The new chamber he entered was hexagonal like the old one, but dimly lit, the roof was domed and in the middle was a tiny light well. While the attendants’ golden chamber became a prison, this one distinctly felt like one already. It had alcoves like the brothel below that were heavily shadowed. Inside one arch, something was chittering, like the female’s wings, a dry flutter.

Mak waited. He was yautja despite his ill form, and there was nowhere to run. 

From the echoing alcove, a multiple-jointed limb lined in thick quills stepped into the dull light. It was followed by another and another, each unique and folded differently. When the thorax and abdomen appeared, a pit grew in Mak’s stomach.

She was a magnificent creature, six-legged, soft female torso, taloned hands, thorax, wings, gigantic, but Mak shivered at the idea of mating with her. The thought turned his stomach. Perhaps the attendants made him strong to better defend against being eaten.

The queen in full, gray light, charged at him. She was very fast, he inadvertently flinched as a pair of her legs dug into his body, hoisted him against her underside. She pressed him to her thorax, and tiny secondary limbs grabbed him sharply. They dug into him. Mak couldn’t imagine being aroused by this, but it was happening anyway. He felt the cool chill of venom seep into his bloodstream. The limbs arranged him specifically. He became docked into her. Thankfully, her insides were warm and tight like any female.

As the poison spread, his vision was overcome again by a kaleidoscope of expanding colors. Soon her grizzly appearance was completely forgotten.


	7. You plus me, can't lose, don't you see?

Brothel floor matrons were in a unique position because while they had more responsibility than the common drones and workers, they were still arcturians. This meant that when they eventually enjoyed themselves, they had to absorb every atom of pleasure from it since they needed to withstand the drought that followed when they returned to managing. An easily tempted matron ran the risk of getting downgraded to worker status, so most matrons were picky about who they turned to for satisfaction.

Beni believed the matron he was currently bedding had made a good choice to shirk her duties and let loose with his alien body. He was positive she’d remember it during those awful moments of resisting temptation. The memory of his dick would help her swallow back the encroaching arcturian drive and return to her work. This idea pleased him as she sank back against his cock for the umpteenth time.

Her moans were adorable. He was in love with the slight weight of her breasts and the round swell of her hips. His hands were giant, especially on her small, soft body, but she enjoyed his firm grip. He could tell every time he grabbed her neck from behind and she mewled with pleasure. Her back arched as he pulled his thick shaft from her hole. She chased after it with her hips, Beni was all too obliged to sheath it inside her again with full force. The matron whimpered and gripped the alcove’s cushion tighter. 

Her cloaca was a velvet vice around him now, silky and wet. He could practically count her internal ridges as his cock’s head moved between them. Beni decided this was enough slow, sensual love-making for his current erection, and flipped her to face him. He shoved her into the padded walls of the alcove to angle her opening better before pounding into her in quick, harsh pulses.

The matron wiggled wildly against him, dug her delightful heels into his back, and whimpered. Most arcturians liked being used for another’s enjoyment, the matron was no different. She thrust her hands up into Beni’s tresses and yanked. Nerves electrified down his body. He purred in shocked spurts while she pulled. His burgeoning need thickened inside of her and his hips worked harder. 

When he hit the limit on what her orifice could contain, he began to fill her. Beni would never forget the feeling of ejaculation. The coursing, throbbing relief was fantastic. His seed overflowed and dripped down the curve of her ass even while he remained buried. She crooned open-mouthed against his neck guard as her body tensed rigidly.

When she settled back against the cushions finally, he separated himself from her and arranged her limp form against his green torso. Her curves poured against him. 

“Have you tried it all ways yet?” The matron sighed contentedly against his bicep. He had left it under her to pillow her head.

“Well, yeah.” The question offended Beni slightly. As if he wouldn’t attempt any arrangement possible while he could. 

“Oh?” The matron rolled over to face him. Her interest was apparent in the shining glimmer of her forehead node. “What’s it like to be penetrated? Yautja never ask for that service. Did you feel anything?”

“That’s an option!?” Beni said stunned.

The matron twisted her mouth as a critique of his shotty professionalism.

“Queen’s stingers!” Beni sat up excitedly, practically throwing the female into the alcove’s corner with his outburst. “You gotta do that to me!”

Her judging frown turned into fascination.

“With a yautja patron’s body?” Her hand roamed over his sturdy hips with fresh interest. “I shouldn’t...when you get your body back, he’ll feel it, I’m sure.”

However, her words didn’t convince her, she continued to circle his abdomen with curious touches, and delved lightly between the cleft of his ass.

“We’ll need something large and scores of lube.” She withdrew sharply and fumbled out of the pit like an excited worker brand new to the concept of pleasure. “Stay put, drone!”

Beni watched the matron’s retreating back as she trotted across the floor. He had high expectations for her return. How could he have forgotten that some patrons asked for posterior stimulation whether they had penises or not? Here he was bemoaning his lost cloaca but hadn’t actually sat down and poked around his body’s entire _area._ He carefully attempted that process now with an intense awareness not to ruin his asshole with his talon like he ruined one of his eyes. When he slid a finger down the crevice of his butt, he was thrilled to find that yautja did have a hole, but it wasn’t very exciting to touch. One more tally was added to the ‘pro’ side for cloacas.

With this slight confirmation and no additional exploration, he attempted to wait patiently for the pretty matron to return with whatever dildo she had gone to retrieve. He anxiously twiddled his fingers, but as he fidgeted, his attention began to wane. Beni just hadn’t figured out how to utilize his brain’s new sense of focus. It was too dull to wait, especially when he spotted the towering body of that other yautja from the black pool across the room.

His nasty whip was wrapped around his neck like a collar, and Beni remembered the sharp pain of denial, the embarrassment of being rejected. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak to the matron about these new concepts and feelings. She was so pretty, smart too. This new and exciting opportunity to pick and choose who he would take his pleasure from was exhilarating. If only he wasn’t so easily distracted, with a sudden resolution, he decided to buckle down and wait for her to come back. Beni crossed his arms and focused.

But the large, grumpy yautja was also something he wanted to learn more about before he inevitably figured out the leeches or the brothel connected him with the alien whose body he stole. His eye followed the similar alien as he crossed the chamber. He had such an air of confidence around himself, Beni could barely relate to it. It was apparent in his purposeful poise and calm. 

Perhaps Beni could just go talk to him for a second. If he didn’t bow so blatantly maybe he could convince the fascinating male to allow his submission. After all, he wasn’t a real yautja. The situation was so outlandish the other yautja would be equally fascinated!

Beni convinced himself he'd be back before the matron could say ‘royal jelly’ and slunk out of his cushioned booth. The yautja’s broad shoulders were easy enough to follow in the crowd. He was heads higher than the flocking arcturians. Beni stalked him at a distance as he started up an inclined tunnel and entered one of the lavatories.

Beni bopped his fist on his palm. This was perfect. It could easily be a casual conversation.

“Hello, how are you? Do you remember me? Haha, of course, you do. Well, I’m not really a yautja. Do you know about these weird worms that make you switch bodies? Oh, you do? Wow, you’re very cultured and sophisticated. Yeah, I’ll touch your bicep. You must work out like, all the time. Yes, it was just a misunderstanding before but can you hit me now? Oh, you can? That’ll be excellent. How about right on my upper thighs? It’s your favorite spot too! What a coincidence. I’m so glad I ran into you here, in the upper chamber’s left washroom.”

Yes, it would be exactly like that. Beni ducked into the same bathroom, but upon entering, there was no one there. The long trough of sloped dark clay met the mirror without a matching reflection. The fluted sinks were empty. Even the stall doors hung open. Beni taped his mask’s chin with a talon, but he watched the big yautja come in. Did his new species really have teleportation abilities?

As the door shut, a massive hand fisted into his dreads to the roots and yanked. Beni barely had time to register the pain when he was slammed into the wall’s magenta clay.

“As if I couldn’t smell you following me, runt.”

“H-hi,” Beni attempted through a pained yelp as the larger yautja tugged his head further back.

The aggressive male snarled and yanked his head around to throw Beni into the mirror. He caught himself despite his disorientation. Yautja had excellent natural reflexes.

“Do you wish to submit again?” the darker yautja clicked menacingly.

“Well…” Beni did, but now he was off-kilter. Something nasty was screaming in his gut. He had never felt instincts before, so he wasn’t positive how to react to them. “...it’s complicated?”

Apparently that was the wrong answer, because the facing yautja bristled, spread his arms, and roared at Beni.

“What have you become? You’re blooded. Well into your centuries, and you’re ridiculous. A pup asking for pain. It’s sickening.”

Shame swelled in Beni’s chest. He growled back automatically, but his posture was less than confident. The male was much larger than him. He crowded him flat against the mirror.

“Fight me,” the other yautja hissed, “restore what little honor you possess in my eyes.”

And for legitimately, the first time ever, Beni considered death. He could die. His life could end, and he would never be able to smoke or drink or eat or fuck ever again. That was a real possibility that had never occurred to him. Pain was a doorway to the complete eradication of his awareness, the decomposition of his stolen body. It was unfortunate that he cowered at the yautja. This was also the wrong answer.

His massive palm slammed into Beni’s mask and dragged him from the mirror by his face.

“Cowards deserve death.” He tossed Beni into one of the stalls, who staggered and collapsed into the toilet basin.

Fear bubbled up Beni’s throat as the other yautja blocked his only exit.

“But I don’t think you understand that,” he murmured darkly. He wrenched Beni up by his roots and crushed his chest to the stall’s wall. “A vile offense deserves a vile punishment.”

Beni couldn’t budge against the wall. One of his arms was pinned behind him, and despite trying to press back with his other, the yautja had him trapped with the rest of his larger mass. Beni felt the clank of chainmail against his inner thigh. He swallowed nervously because the male was now silent, but Beni couldn’t see what he was doing in the narrow vision of his mask.

Then a heavy warmth settled on his back, up its length were pin-pricks of chill metal. Beni could never forget the sensation of a dick’s weight on his spine regardless of skin or scales, but he jerked from surprise. 

The yautja’s grip on him increased.

“Struggle. Make it worse,” he hissed sharply into the dreads that hung over Beni's ear hole.

Beni barely caught a glimpse of his attacker’s cock. Earlier, Beni thought his own dick was sizable, but this male’s was larger and studded with metal bars that ran along its underside from tip to base. Beni shivered. He’d been in this position enough to know exactly where that yautja was going to stick it, he was just unfamiliar with the hole. If this was the yautja’s idea of vile, well, Beni was glad he wasn’t a full-time yautja and only one on vacation.

He held this mental stance calmly until the moment the yautja thrust roughly into him. A cold sweat exploded from his pores instantly like he had a fever. It was abundantly clear that a yautja’s rear end wasn’t built to accept anything entering it, only leaving it. A pained sound escaped through his gaping mandibles. Fertile queen! It wasn’t any better the second time either, and the third made his legs buckle.

Beni was melting in this insensitive body he inhabited. Outside of his ragged gasps, he recognized that he had possibly gone too far with his pursuit of pleasure. Ultimately, this was what he wanted, but it actually hurt. His brain wasn’t quietly converting the nerve signals that told him he was in pain into rainbows or sparkles. It was telling him that if he didn’t settle down, and widen up, accept it or escape it, then this would continue to be incredibly awful.

Beni wasn’t particularly good at willing himself to relax, it came naturally before, but he could make some educated guesses. He reeled in his breathing and unclenched everything that was actively resisting after a few false starts. It still hurt, but it was more manageable. He was actually starting to enjoy the sharp, forceful pounding cock into his resistant hole. The yautja must be lubricating his passage a little, even if he hated this act so much.

When his own erection pressed up through his petals, excited and wet, Beni had come full circle. He was glad he followed this rough yautja male into the bathroom and got him angry because this was possibly the seediest thing Beni had ever done and he had a long list of contenders. Beni hadn’t masturbated in this new body, and he had one hand free, but when he reached down the yautja trapped his wrist with a paw against the wall.

He groaned miserably, but the thrusts were getting deeper, more rolling into his ass. Beni believed he could feel every round end of the piercings caress his insides. The male grunted against him abruptly, and Beni sensed the tell-tale throb against his new prostate that the yautja was about to cum. However, shockingly, that was the moment the yautja pulled out. Without his pinning hands and supporting hips, Beni’s legs struggled to support himself.

The older yautja grabbed his mask again and Beni, barely recovered, heard the screech of talons on metal. After glinting the bathroom light off his handiwork, the yautja pushed Beni back against the stall with a clatter, reseated his loincloth, and departed without another word. With the threat of further embarrassment gone, Beni crumbled to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yautja with cock piercings are a brainchild of [AlphaLima1980](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphalima1980)


	8. All's well that ends, well... stupid

Whenever Mak slipped back into consciousness, ejaculation coursed through his body like water from a fire hose. Continuously. Contractions beat with clockwork precision in his groin as he shot into the queen’s canal. Her orifice tightened against him in response and undulated up his length to collect his essence, to move it further into her bottomless-pit uterus. 

There was little he could do to resist as he was currently pinned against her underbelly. Her venom-dripping pincers clutched at him from shoulders to thighs. He felt the cool pulse of poison, but his internal temperature was overcooked like a steamed lobster. If she cracked him open at the end of this, he imagined his insides would spill out white and buttery in the same way. Oddly, he wouldn’t mind at this point. He was delirious, and so oxytocin-soaked, being devoured to death might even feel good.

Mak sunk into the soothing blackness of his mind with the slight awareness that his lower half was saturated with wetness and spreading. He considered briefly the possibility that this species absorbs their males. If this was true, he hoped the queen would take away his higher brain functioning, he couldn’t live with imprisonment and symbiosis for the rest of his life. However, that was his last thought. Unconsciousness took him again.

A bright speck hung in his vision. The light separated into pieces as if he was squinting at a reflection from far away. He couldn’t move, but whatever supporting his back was hard unlike the hammocked, open-air sensation of being suspended against the queen. 

Soft fingers touched his pulse.

“Queen’s stingers! He’s alive!”

Mak realized the speck was the skylight high in the queen’s chambers and that he was lying on the ground. He didn’t have enough energy to be excited over his survival, but in a distant, quiet sense he was relieved.

His body was lifted again with a collection of hands before being settled down on softness. He mentally glided over the ground into the darkness of the tunnels. The world was black and white again. Nothing danced in the shadows like before. Sleepy exhaustion settled over him.

This time when he came too, he was more alert than before. He was sitting in a warm bath. An arcturian was cradling him from behind, cleaning translucent goo from his abdomen. It wasn’t dissolving in the water. She scraped the slop from her hands into a bucket that floated nearby. He still hadn’t the energy to jerk away from her, but he must’ve shifted in a way that caught her attention.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” the worker cooed, “you did very well. Feel proud.”

His only option was to settle into her and let her clean him. The water was the perfect temperature. It smelled divine too. The scent floated on the surface in oil slick rainbows. Each breath took time as he lounged against the worker.

“What if I didn’t do well?”

The worker scoffed. Her hands massaged him after he was clean. 

“Can’t remember, male? Cute. If you left the queen unsated, you’d be eaten, of course. You should see the state of that cell sometimes after a mating!” Mak felt her body shiver. “Thankfully, pregnancy makes her docile. The workers that fetched you said she had curled up happily in one of the alcoves and was sleeping. In a few weeks, you’ll be the father to several hundred workers. Isn’t that special?”

Mak murmured in acknowledgment. “I want my old body back.” 

“Eventually maybe. Hard to say. But rest now.” The worker stroked his hair until he was lulled to sleep.

* * *

Beni remained splayed out in the bathroom stall. The more he thought about what had happened with the bigger yautja, the more confused he became. He was still aroused and there was an interesting pain associated with not working to relieve himself. He’d certainly never masturbated while sad before, not that he masturbated often. There was always someone willing to relieve him before.

He had also never masturbated with a dick, period, and now that he was thinking about it, he'd never even been sad before! His asshole hurt and felt stupidly empty at the same time. This body sucked, but sure, whatever, a sad wank in a cold miserable bathroom was a new experience too. He would try to savor it. 

With his ridiculous alien anatomy, jacking off was a ton of work with a weak payoff. He gave a tired groan and a huge splash of sperm blasted onto his abs. With his erection taken care of, his misery, unfortunately, was all that remained, but Beni was, at heart, an optimist, and so he righted himself after a few more minutes of wallowing. He washed up in the bathroom’s fluted sink, and dimly noted that the mean yautja had scratched an unknown symbol into his mask. Days back when he’d taken off the mask, he barely noticed the runes, but now he was nervous, and a little electrified, seeing the mark. He felt sore and was torn between never wanting to see that other yautja again and wanting to see him immediately. Beni hated being this confused.

While he considered his reflection in the mirror, a familiar wiggling tugged him in a direction. Unlike before, he threw himself out of the bathroom and followed the pull like a Trana-voxmena addict. Anything else in the brothel held little appeal. He had no clue what would happen once the worm led him to where his body was, but he hoped he could figure it out. As the leech led him, it’s wiggling became more intense. He could see it writhing under his skin. When it brought him to a cushioned alcove, similar to the one he'd previously shared with the matron, he didn’t recognize the body in front of him.

It was a sleeping arcturian, but not a drone, he was a male. Beni had never seen a male before, they were incredibly rare. He had hair similar to Beni’s, but everyone had white hair, repeats in style were common. A sigh rose from Beni’s chest. The leech continued to frantically wiggle, pointing him towards the body. Beni had nowhere else to go. Exhaustion settled over him suddenly and the curled-up arcturian appeared to have the right idea about this whole situation. Beni hoped he’d feel better after a nap.

Beni folded in behind him despite the worm’s frenzy. A quick rest wouldn’t hurt his search. The snoozing arcturian was loose-limbed and relaxed in return. He settled against Beni’s chest. They dozed warmly together in the nest of pillows. Eventually, Beni began to pet the other male’s hip. He was getting a lot of interesting opportunities lately. Here he was, cuddled up with a male arcturian probably fresh from mating with the queen. His apparent fatigue made perfect sense. Beni’s petting hand moved lower and lower over the front of the male. His flaccid penis grew upright and hard without much encouragement from Beni’s hand. The male murmured slightly before shifting his hips back into Beni’s growing erection.

Beni's mood hadn't improved much since the bathroom, but maybe being inside this male would make him feel better. He rolled the arcturian’s hips to position the cloaca’s entrance against the head of his cock. The sleeping male began to stir awake, he threw his hand back to hold Beni closer. Arcturians were predictable creatures, always interested in pleasure, even when half-awake or exhausted. Beni pressed his length in. The receiving hole was wet and contracted pleasantly around him in a way only an arcturian could.

Compared to all the other situations Beni had gotten drawn into lately, this specific one was surprisingly comfortable and slow like the world had taken on an unreal, soft glow. Beni nuzzled into the nape of the male and wrapped his thick arms around his torso. The male himself was the one guiding the measured pace of his thrusts. For a second, Beni thought he’d accidentally fallen asleep. The sensations switched very suddenly. Not that he was upset about it, he felt warm and protected when he hadn’t before. Being a yautja was hard work, there were too many things he simply didn’t understand.

His cloaca contracted around the thick, beautiful cock thrusting in him. He sighed blissfully, glad that he hadn’t forgotten the feeling of being filled properly, but then sticky wetness hit him in the stomach. It was an odd thing to include in a dream but he’d been a confused mess lately. His vision returned in rainbows as he woke from his orgasm and a green, mask-wearing, very familiar yautja hung over him.

“Oh, hello. Hi. Erm.”

* * *

“Recall this?” Mak shoved two intertwined leeches into the male’s face. The geminae leeches had unlatched themselves from the pair’s bodies while they were mid-coitus. Having finally united, the two leeches died. Their telekinetic bond between the worms had expired.

The sweet-faced arcturian looked first wide-eyed at the leeches’ corpse and then back at Mak timidly. “Y-yes.”

“You stole my body!” Mak rasped and pressed his mask against the arcturian’s forehead. The male cowered back into the cushions.

He fisted his taloned hand into the alien’s hair before throwing himself out of their alcove. The alien flailed along behind him, dragged by his roots. 

“You!” Mak growled at the nearest arcturian, “Superior. Now!”

The arcturian bowed shakily. “Of course, sir. Right away, sir. This way! Please follow me.” They darted off across the floor. Mak barely let the alien he was dragging right himself. He tugged him along as he trailed his selected guide. When the worker brought him into an office, a female bolted up from her desk as soon as he entered. Mak threw the arcturian he carried to the ground.

“Explain to me how it’s possible you grant your whores access to geminae leeches!”

“Sir!” the matron already had taken on a pleading tone, “We tried to find you!”

“Do you have any clue what happened to me when I was…” Mak gestured at the arcturian he forcefully brought, who was still kneeling remorsefully on the floor. “This male?”

The matron fidgeted and glanced down at the pitiful arcturian. “He’s a male? But before…” she swallowed dimly, “oh.”

“Yes,” Mak stated blandly. He was glad he didn’t have to go into any more detail.

“Honored patron...this...this is a very difficult situation. What do you ask for your…” the matron visibly sought a proper word, “refund?”

Mak snarled, “What do I want for a  _ refund _ ? An explanation! The three heads of the queen’s attendants. The queen. And definitely the annihilation of this arcturian.” He pointed a talon at the cowering male.

“Oh certainly, the last one is done. He’s yours.”

“What?” The male arcturian peeped wetly.

“Yeah whatever, most arcturians don’t understand death,” the matron shrugged. “Chances are he’ll die in a few days anyway from sheer exhaustion. We have to get rid of the males anyway if they survive. They disrupt business. We sell them if possible. They are a hot commodity. He’s yours. If you want to kill him, so be it.”

Beni's head hung. “I don’t want to die,” he sobbed breathily, “this isn’t even my old body. Worst gift ever.”

Mak clicked behind his mask while considering the simpering male. He was too pitiful to kill, not worthy of the hunt at all. “Why did you steal my body?”

The male swiveled his head up, his brow was stitched together around the diode. “Accident. I’m not very smart. I got the leeches from a patron. One got out. I came to the matron, but it was too late. I’m...sorry.” 

He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in it. “Your body is nice. It was fun, for awhile.”

The arcturian was as innocent as a pup. Mak could beat him, but he knew what that would do to the alien at his feet. Pain was no different from pleasure for the male arcturian now that they had returned to their own bodies.

Meanwhile, the matron had paced around the desk and was circling Mak. She traced the hip band of his loincloth with a finger. 

“You understand that you can’t touch the attendants or the queen. It’s simply out of the question. You’d have to slaughter this entire brothel first,” the matron prodded once she made the entire circuit and was back in front of him. 

Mak did the math. “You’d all present your necks, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh yes, the prospect of brutal death at the hands of an efficient killing machine is very arousing. I’m literally wetting myself as we speak. If you killed the queen before all the inhabitants of the brothel, we’d go berserk. She does regulate us after all. Surely, you aren’t prepared to kill thousands on a vendetta? Your kind isn’t known for revenge.”

He snapped his mandibles at the matron. Consideration was a valuable component to deciding and Mak hadn’t yet decided.

“Take the male and leave. If it suits you, don’t ever come back. If you do, all services are on the house. You can be a VIP member for your exceptionally long life. I promise we won’t disappoint. Again.”

Mak wasn’t about to destroy an entire species. In reflection, there were moments in the last thirty-six hours he entirely enjoyed. Never in his life did he expect to be pleasured so completely. He frowned. For the first time, he considered the sharp pains in his returned body, his eye, his….ass? Returning to the ship and going on a grueling hunt was the only remedy for this terrible failure of an excursion.

The male on the ground was openly weeping into his hands now.

“Accepted,” Mak stoically agreed. The terms were acceptable. “I’ll need a collar for the male.” He pointed to a nearby rack of them.

“Honored patron,” the matron bowed with a slight smile. “Pleasure doing business and I deeply apologize for the trials this brothel has put you through. It was not our intention.”

The yautja shrugged as he watched the male get collared. The matron placed the leash in his hands. He was done with this place. Mak hungered for the confines of his familiar ship and the quiet of space. When he left there was a slight resistance from the male until he staggered to his feet and trundled along behind him. It wasn’t until reaching the last door to the surface that Mak had to tug again.

“Noooooo.” The arcturian pulled meekly at the collar, “I can’t go that way. It’s the end of the world. Don’t make me die!” He sank to the ground and hugged his knees.

Mak was beyond exhausted and this was a body that was rarely tired. His only desire was to see the stars and to type coordinates into his ship to go anywhere that wasn’t here. He needed his med bay for his crusty eye, the bathing quarters, and his bed. But due to the circumstances, he kneeled beside the panicked arcturian. Perhaps it was residual empathy.

“What’s your name?”

“Beni,” he whispered miserably.

“Beni. You are very stupid. I can’t hate you. You are unworthy. I will consider killing you every single day for the rest of your life, so I hope, for your sake, it is brief. But, the brothel isn’t all there is. If you want to live, leave with me.”

Beni sniffed up at him. His face was painted with fear and sadness. Still, he nodded. “Okay, honored patron.”

“Get up,” Mak commanded. The arcturian stood nervously, his posture hunched, his hands gripping the leash. Mak tugged him through the doors with barely any struggle. He ascended up the long ramp to the outside. The brothel looked very different leaving than it did entering.  _ Regurgitated _ was an accurate word to describe his worked-over mood.

* * *

Beni was stunned seeing the outside. He wasn’t capable of wincing, but he must’ve been struggling to forget some mannerisms of having eyelids because he did try to blink several times. Above ground, it was bright. A yellow sun burned over spans and spans of red grass. The brothel was buried inside a large mound of dirt behind him. Beni’s captor tugged him along and he watched how the tunneled entrance receded into the distance.

He wasn’t dead! His entire life had been a lie! There was an _outside_ and he could leave the brothel. Beni was more than a little upset about it. Actually now that he tasted fresh air for the first time in his life, he realized that there were more things that the matron did that were upsetting and he had  _ liked _ her! He wished to go back to a simpler time when he was a humble drone enjoying his innocent life.

But in front of him was a giant metal object perched on four legs. Beni stumbled from awe and almost fell face-first into the red dirt. The yautja’s tight hold on the leash was all that kept him upright. The door slid up automatically and Beni was dropped unceremoniously on the floor just over the threshold. Clearly the yautja had some things he needed to do. The alien disappeared up a long metal corridor. When the floor shook, Ben vaulted up and peeked out a convenient, glass-covered hole.

The grassland was shooting past them. Beni’s mouth dropped open watching the horizon disappear into a black and speckled sky. Wow! Crazy! What even is outside?

The yautja passed him again. 

“Hey!” Beni bounced excitedly, “What are we in? Where are we going?”

“It’s a ship, and anywhere that isn’t Arcturus.”

None of this information meant anything to Beni. “Do all the aliens come on these ships?”

But the yautja had already moved down the hallway. Beni guessed his question wasn’t very interesting. He went back to watching the black world pass around the ship.

After a few minutes, the yautja came back. He grabbed Beni’s arm in his massive paw and turned him sharply until they were both at eye level. Beni shivered looking at the yautja, it reminded him of the mean one in the bathroom. 

“I have a new rune on my mask, male. It reads  _ Zazi'din _ . Do you know what that means?” 

Beni swallowed nervously as the yautja tapped the carved mark on his mask’s cheek. 

“Why does my mask now mark me as a  _ hole _ ?” the yautja attempted to keep his tone level. 

Beni fiddled with his hands, but a thrill of excitement shot through him. He had to swallow that down as well.

“Sir, honored patron, you really don’t want to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> If you've made it this far, please leave a kudos or a comment!


End file.
